Conmen and Coveralls
by Karen Kannabilly
Summary: I'll let this be a collection of different Nellis drabbles. Updates soon.


_**A\N: **__So I figured to kickstart the Nellis drabbles I'd just put this... really rough, entirely too repetitive bunch of lyrics. It can either be read as a poem or a song, but was intended as a song from Nick's point of view. IT'S TERRIBLE but why not I suppose._

_Hugh Dillon's voice should be considered when reading this ;D_

**Death & Taxes (Not So Sure)**

Watchful pigs

Doing their damnedest to keep up with my rigs

Notches on a hotel's wooden post

This is the thrill I adore and detest most

These are the things I'm sure of

Money and the crime

Laying low with dogs and the grime

As sure as death and taxes, these are things I just know;

Cards- and cunning

Risk- and shunning

Cigarettes and apathy

These are all certainty

Oh, as sure as death and taxes

There are things I know

A moron named Curiosity tenses in my bones, but then that fuck relaxes

'Cause none of this is gonna go

(No, siree, no)

As sure as death and taxes, there are things I see

So familiar with filthiness that their routine is home to me

Absolute and pure

Just like death and taxes, I'm sure

What the hell is going on?

My retina moves, scans for certainty, but finds covered bodies on a cut lawn

Three on a building, trapped by inferno, nothin' about them I wanna know

Because I swear, none of this is gonna go

No matter what happens, look out for number one

They're only numbers I won't count when this chaos is done

Then as this waltz begins, my eyes pass over teeth stained with blood

And suddenly I'm trekkin' through a new reality, creatures of malice with no ulterior motive, humans of mud

You're the unknowing kid, fine with being unwitting, excited about uncertainty, without a guess

The goddamn pigs shed their badges, pushin' their snouts into this mess

The last of a female long left behind, only faintly imprinted on my neck

This unforgivable wreck

The world of old routine ended months ago

Now I'm dirty, this fabric and body is dirty, and there's things I just don't know

Oh , as sure as death and taxes

There are things I know

A moron named Curiosity tenses in my bones but then that fuck relaxes

'Cause none of this is gonna go

(No, siree, no)

As sure as death and taxes, there are things I see

So familiar with filthiness that their routine is home to me

Absolute and pure

And just like death and taxes, I'm sure

Oh that thick thrill'a old love and hate...

Your gunfire rings through and I can feel it all dissipate

Cash is useless, this world is lawless and suddenly it's all so strange

I hate bein' alone with my fleas, the other dogs fled with their mange

The game is over, gamblers' tricks lost and invalid to the sick

Risks not worth the price, but my walls are still hard to kick...

I flinch as your palm moves to reassure me

'Cause just like death and taxes, there are still things I see...

I can't, won't, think this something sane

Your accent curls with the twang of your backwards state, you have no brain

You're just a number to increase the odds

I am essential, even in all my facades

But then Curiosity prods me with his claws,

Sharply sweet and naïve octaves from the boy in coveralls

When did Death stop being a certainty?

(Oh, as sure as death and taxes)

My lighter's out of fluid, where's my apathy?

(There are things I know)

Now nothin's promised or easily assumed

(The Curiosity gnaws at my marrow)

The muscle tensed, all over me, over me

Everywhere, consumed

(And now none of you will go)

I am blind

(Not so sure)

I don't want to know anymore, I don't need to seek or find

(Not so sure)

I'm in turmoil, shouting your name just to hear my echo repeat the call

I make our skin meet, and it is the end of it all

Embedding my nails in the innocence, lips on lips

You wrapped up in my uncertainty, I swear I can feel it shakin' in your fingertips

I'm not so sure anymore

This unexplainable want to protect and count you in my core

But as sure as death and taxes

There are things I know

Curiosity bore his goddamn head

And that moron took over my skeleton in this new world of the dead

As sure as death and taxes

There were things I'd yet to see

And as sure as death and taxes, you became home to me

So covered in ragged selflessness, they open a foolish door

But as promised as undeath and lawlessness, I'm not so sure

I'm not so sure

Not so sure...


End file.
